


Just another day

by ThestralQueenn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Darkness, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Malfoy Manor, Other, Violence, Written Pre-Half Blood Prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 23:00:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThestralQueenn/pseuds/ThestralQueenn
Summary: The Summer before Draco's sixth year was far more complex than anyone knew.





	Just another day

“Draco do keep up. It does not bode well for a Malfoy to be seen arriving late, Malfoy’s are never late” instructed Lucius, the head of the Malfoy name, the patriarch of a line of pure-blood supremacy and aristocracy.

“Sorry father” mumbled Draco in response, his hands stuffed in his pockets fidgeting.

The young heir was walking at a much slower pace behind his father, dreading the outcome of where their walk was taking them. His lack of enthusiasm however could not be said the same for his father, who was storming ahead of him at an eager pace, his robes billowing behind him. Yet no matter how quickly he walked, his signature sleeked blond hair never moved a strand out of place.

“Honestly Draco, this is an important meeting so do try to remember that our name is at stake here-” Quipped the older man, who for the first time since they left their quarters in Malfoy Manor, finally looked over at his son. His grey eyes that mirrored Draco’s own were menacing in his glare before he continued, “Our family cannot take any more embarrassment. So, you will do whatever the Dark Lord asks of you. Understood?” Finished Lucius, his cane tightening in the flex of his fingers.

“Yes father” replied Draco’s same monotonous response that he had been using all Summer. It was becoming futile to argue with his father.

And just before both men went to continue walking toward the hall doors just a few metres ahead, Lucius’s cane swung suddenly and clipped Draco’s pocketed hands.

“Hands out of pockets!” his father hissed, eyes now more dangerous than before.

But his son didn’t respond how he would have perhaps preferred, “yes father”, and then both Malfoys walked in silence toward the now open doors.

Stiffening his posture as they entered the hall, Draco raised his shoulders as he watched Lord Voldemort approach him and his father, the dark wizard wearing his characteristic steely gaze.

“Finally arrived have we Lucius? Here I thought you were dedicated to our cause, yet you arrive late” he smirked, watching Lucius struggle in-front of him, searching for an answer. Draco hated watching his father practically dance for the man.

“Sorry my Lord, we were-” Lucius begun, but the Dark Lord merely raised his hand in a silencing gesture, “do keep the excuses to yourself Lucius, I am sure they are well rehearsed”. And then he turned in dismissal, walking toward his throne at the head of the table; non-verbally instructing the rest of his followers to be seated.

The following moments were silent, and Draco didn’t dare make a sound out of fear of persecution.

“As you are all aware, we successfully raided three muggle houses over the week. While that is a great feat, we were however unsuccessful in the raid of one house in Surrey. Dolohov, do you have anything to say for your impotence in this matter?” The Dark Lord directed his attentions at one of the men at the far end of the table, who’s mind appeared elsewhere.

“I beg your pardon Milord?” he asked quietly, his composure failing.

The Dark Lord raised his wand and shot a cutting spell at the man’s exposed arms, causing him immediate pain. “I asked, do you have anything to say for your disappointing display at the muggle raid in Surrey? Anything at all?” He enunciated every word through a snake-like hiss, daring the man to respond.

“Well as a matter of fact-” but his lie was not allowed to continue any further, as the Dark Lord stood with dark purpose, his eyes burning with darkness. Draco could only turn away with closed eyes and open ears as he heard the Dark Lord punish the man with a series of Crucio’s, one after the other, after the other.

Once the Dark Lord appeared done with his powerful display, he sat back down comfortably in his throne, not bothering to wait for Antonin to catch his breath as he begun to speak to the room once again.

“For your insubordination Antonin, I have brought in your daughter Leta Dolohov. I have decided that she will carry out a mission for me. I can only hope for your sake that she can make up for the shame you have brought not only onto to your family, but onto me as well.” He declared, before waving his arm at the shut mahogany doors, beckoning Wormtail to bring forth a girl Draco recognised well.

Leta Dolohov looked very much like how Draco had remembered her- exactly like her father. She had long dark hair with dark eyes to match, but deep down her demeanour was very unlike her fathers. Draco knew this because they had grown up together as children. As they got older however, the lives around them got more complicated, and their acquaintance infrequent at best.

What happened next passed in a blur as Draco witnessed the Dark Lord instruct a 16-year-old girl to perform a dangerous task for the sake of her family and his sardonic cause. While Draco was all for pureblood supremacy like his parents, he wasn’t one for violence to achieve those ends and he knew deep down that Leta thought similarly to himself.

So as expected, the meeting finished up quickly after that. Not much was left to be said after the Dark Lord preferred to discuss the details of the mission in private with Leta at a later date. But one thing was for certain, everyone in that room knew that the Dark Lord was setting Leta up to fail, as punishment for her father’s actions.

After the meeting had finished, Draco’s father pulled him aside, eyes trained on the Dolohov family walking solemnly ahead.

“Draco, I don’t want you near Leta, you hear me? I don’t want you tangled up in that mission. We cannot risk our name also, especially when the Dark Lord has all-but sentenced the girl to death. You understand me Draco?” His father stressed, looking down at him with pleading eyes.

Draco responded in the only way he knew how, “yes father”.

But internally, Draco had made a rash decision that would affect his life more than he thought possible. Draco was going to go against his father’s wishes, just because he could.

“I understand completely”.

After that, it didn’t take long for Draco to pick back up his friendship with Leta. So just as quickly as Draco lied to his father, he and Leta were hanging out at every opportunity.

For the next few weeks as his father left for meetings or missions, Draco and Leta would go up to Draco’s personal quarters away from the madness of it all. The two of them could usually be found discussing Leta’s mission and sometimes, their lives after Hogwarts. They talked about his ambition to become a healer and hers to work with animals in some variety. It was all fantasy of course, but they both could just dream like children, even if for just a moment.  

It was late one afternoon however when the two of them lay amongst a scatter of books in his personal library that everything changed. They both had their arms outstretched and imitating the shape of snow angels as they stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, their minds occupied with unspoken concerns.

“That’s it, we’re not doing this- not today. Get up Draco,” declared Leta, her figure bouncing up in a swift bound, her hands brushing off the dust on her jeans from the centuries old Dark Arts textbooks.

Draco didn’t budge from his position, but his eyes did follow her abruption.

“What are you doing Leta?” He sighed, mood deflated ever since his aunt had been released from Azkaban just last week.

“I’ll tell you what we’re not doing- we’re not sitting cooped up in here feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s go out!”

“Leta no, you know we’ll get in to trouble if we’re caught. And I don’t mean slap on the leg trouble, I mean serious trouble” Draco hissed, scrunching his face in a measurable frown.

Leta arched an eyebrow at Draco’s theatrical display, hands now placed on her hips, “C’mon Draco, for once don’t be so dramatic and trust me. We can’t hoard ourselves up here worrying about tomorrow, when we should be living today.”

“Oh, how poetic of you” he quipped back sarcastically.

Leta responded with the same smirk, “I do learn from the very best- so get up blondie. Now!”

“Alright, alright! I’m moving!” Draco threw his hands up in the air as a sign of exasperation. The girl’s stubbornness far extended his own capabilities.

“What did you have in mind then?” Draco asked as he stood, also brushing off the abundance of dust.

“Just be quiet and follow me” she smiled, before grabbing his wrist and leading him down through the manor and out down to the lake that rested at the back of the property.  

Draco merely scrunched his nose at their location, “Leta why are we here?”

“Because we can do this” and then Leta bent down and grabbed one of the black smoothed rocks that surrounded the lake, before skimming it across the gloomy water.

“What-” Draco started to ask, but Leta shushed him and placed a rock in his hand, gesturing him to copy.

“C’mon Draco, just try it like this” and Leta carried forth in demonstrating how to skim the near-flat rocks.

“I’m not an idiot, I can skim a rock thank-you” replied Draco rather pompously, but Leta saw right through his attitude and poked out her tongue in return.

Leta gestured in-front of her for Draco to present his “skills”. So, in one swift motion Draco threw his rock and watched as it hit the surface of the water with a _plonk_ and sunk right to the bottom of the black lake.

Just as Leta started to laugh, Draco crossed his arms and puffed his chest, ego bruised.  

“In my defence, I haven’t done it since I was a kid” he muttered.

“Likely story” Leta laughed, before proceeding to slowly wear down Draco’s ego enough to teach him how to _properly_ skim a rock.

The two of them then spent a good hour just laughing and acting like children. There was something pure and innocent in what they were doing. There was something nice about just being out here throwing rocks, and Draco realised he hadn’t laughed like this in a very long time.

Albeit suddenly however, Leta went very quiet, turning over one of the rocks repeatedly in her hand.

“Leta, what’s wrong?” Draco asked after he noticed her less than rambunctious attitude. The deflated look on her face only concerned him further.

“I’m sorry Draco, but it’s too late for me. I’m- I’m carrying out my mission today.” She ended on a whisper, eyes diverting his and looking out over the rippled lake.

Draco felt like the breath had been knocked out of him.

“But I thought you had more time, I thought we had more time” he whispered, voice struggling to come out.

“I’m sorry Draco” and then without saying another word Leta turned to leave.

“What, you mean now? No Leta, c’mon let’s run away. Let’s just pack our bags and leave this place, let’s move to France or Italy.” Draco begged of her, his eyes full of hope, even though deep down he knew this was not an option for either them.

“Draco no-” Leta begun, her eyes struggling to meet his. It was too painful to watch him fight for an impossibility.

“We could change our names to Louis and Jeanne or something, it could work!” he rambled, voice pleading.

She knew his eyes were seeking hers, hoping to catch her gaze and convince her to stay. If she found herself looking into those grey eyes, she knew she’d find herself giving in to his fantasy. But she couldn’t, she had to save her family.

“No Draco, you know I can’t. You know you can’t,” and then without a goodbye Leta walked back up to Malfoy Mansion with purpose in her step, not daring to look back. She couldn’t say goodbye, otherwise it felt permanent.

Watching her retreating form, Draco threw the rock still sitting in his hand toward the lake, his screaming voice drowning out the rocks harsh collision into the rippling water.

Draco hoped to see her again, but just as she knew, Leta was not going to be coming back from the mission alive.

Looking back over at the mansion, Draco could see his father waiting for him atop the steps, as Leta walked past him with her head held high. Draco soon followed suit, ignoring the angered look on his father’s face. He knew he was going to be reprimanded for his antics by the lake, and considering everything, he simply didn’t care.  

The following few days were torture for Draco as he awaited news. But then, on the third morning since Leta left for her mission, Draco was summoned to a meeting with his father. Upon entry into the hall he immediately noticed Leta’s father Antonin’s stiff composure and sniffling wife Almira beside him at their usual seating. Even though Draco knew the answer to his question, he had to ask, he had to have it said aloud.

“Father, where’s Leta?” he attempted in a strained whisper, but at this table, his voice carried across the room.

Before Lucius could reprimand his son, the Dark Lord responded instead.

“Leta was unable to perform the task assigned to her. It’s such a pity, I thought the girl had potential” the Dark Lord spoke in false sadness, but Draco saw right through the feigned sorrow.

“But alas, I was wrong. Apparently, some are too weak to do what is necessary, isn’t that right Dolohov?” he asked the visibly pained man across from Draco, whose blank look focused on the mantle on the wall in-front of him. For the first time, Draco saw a broken father rather than a Death Eater.

“Yes Milord”

It was almost as if Draco was suddenly hit with a blast of white noise. It was like his sense entirely failed him, his mind struggling to comprehend the information given to him. Grief and anger were at the forefront of his mind as the white fuzz begun to settle.

Draco knew this was not the time nor place to let his emotions show however, especially not in-front of the Dark Lord who was watching him suspiciously closely. So, Draco responded in the only way his emotionally regulated upbringing taught him- to show nothing.

Still not relenting his undisturbed look at Draco, the Dark Lord continued speaking.  

“Which reminds me Lucius- after failing so spectacularly at the Department of Mysteries, it seems only appropriate that I turn to young Draco here to pick up the Malfoy shame”.

Draco felt his father’s body stiffen next to him at the Dark Lords request, his training in remaining visibly passive failing him. Draco however trained his eyes on the man addressing him, a surge of determination coursed through his veins as the man spoke seven words that sealed his fate.

“I have a mission for you Draco”.

And in that moment Draco knew he couldn’t fail his mission, not just for himself or his family, but for Leta as well.

“What do you need me to do Milord?”

 

_-Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in the Summer before the Half-Blood Prince. So yes, some events are pushed back for the sake of the story, i.e. the Department of Mysteries heist and the Azkaban break-out.


End file.
